Hands
by countess sunako
Summary: One weekend, Misaki surveys the hands of the man that he loves so much. fluffy and mushy, enjoy! rated t to be sure... :


A/N: Another UsagiXMisaki fanfiction! i can't help it! i love them both, it's just unfortunate that i don't own them. *sigh*. Anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this. There's no smut, but it's full of fluffiness and mushiness, it would make your head ache (and your teeth, too).

**HANDS**

(by mnemosyne04)

It was Sunday. It was very idyllic, so peaceful and quiet; I can't believe another week will start again tomorrow. I blinked my eyes at the television which was currently showing the weekend evening news. I sighed and leaned forward to get the remote control but stopped short when my hand got trapped.

I glanced to my right and glanced at Usagi-san. I stared at him closely, and sure enough, he was still asleep. I glanced down and saw that our fingers were tangled together. I smiled gently and leaned back down on the couch. I let my gaze wander from his soft, silver hair, to his high forehead, his aristocratic nose, to his soft, gentle lips which were parted slightly as he breathed softly. I let my free hand grazed those lips. Those lips that at one point in time kissed me so sweetly that I felt tears in my eyes. Or the lips that kissed me so passionately that my knees threatened to buckle under me, or those lips that drove me to an early death with so much pleasure. Or those lips that smiled gently, pressing against my ear, whispering "I love you" before I go to school…when I got home…in the living room…before sleeping…when I wake up.

Other than his sinful lips, what I love most were his hands. They were cold, slightly rough, larger than life. Perfect. I sighed again as I slid my palm against his. His hands were perfect. I smoothed my fingertips against his knuckles and his long fingers.

I lifted his hand to my lips and pressed a very soft kiss on his knuckles. He sighed my name as he shifted, but did not let go. My lips lifted at the sides. He must have pulled out an all-nighter again. He looks tired.

Well, back to his hands. I always remembered back when we were just getting to know each other, he would always ruffle my hair, me always getting pissed off but secretly loving the feeling of his large hands on my head.

Then we started dating and living together, those large, cold hands would still ruffle my hair. I still pretend that I'm pissed off sometimes, but secretly hoping that he would keep his hands there forever.

Those hands that would cradle my face gently before kissing me, as if I was something so fragile that would break with the slightest touch. Those hands that (just like those sinful lips) would always drive to me to an early death with so much pleasure. Those hands that would cradle me against his warm, broad chest after we made love and were too tired and too satisfied to move. Those hands that would trace my face as I wake up in the morning, as if he could not believe I was there beside him. I would kiss those fingers and those hands will, again just like last night, would drive me insane, and would bring me to heaven and back.

I also remembered the time, 6 years ago, when we were having dinner at a posh restaurant. He seemed so nervous; he kept on fidgeting and squirming. Then by dessert, the cause of his nervousness became apparent when he showed me a small black box. I glanced at him, surprised when he opened it with trembling hands and showed me a simple silver ring. It was just a simple ring but I think it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

His voice was trembling when he asked me to marry him. This was the first time I saw the unflappable Usami Akihiko so unsure of himself. I would have teased him about it, but it was not the right time. I smiled at him so broadly I thought my face would break. He sighed with relief and with his trembling hands, he fitted the ring to my finger. It was perfect. That night, there were no trace of nervousness from the man, but he in turn made me tremble, shake and scream. I would never forget that night.

I was jolted from my musing by a loud bang. The late night movie was on. Careful not to wake my Usagi-san, I turned the tv off and pulled the afghan from the back of the couch. I shifted him gently so that he was lying comfortable on the couch. I covered him with the afghan and he shifted, sighed and pulled me against him.

I was startled at first but sighed as I wrapped my arms around him, smoothing my hands on his back, until it rested on his delectable butt. Then I felt warm breath on my ear as he nuzzled his nose against me.

I gasped quietly and squirmed. Then I heard a chuckle. I drew back slightly, and sure enough, the pervert was awake.

"How long have you been awake?" I demanded, blushing furiously, as I know I have been caught.

He chuckled as he nuzzled my hair, arms tightening as he stroked by back. "Long enough to catch you playing with my hands."

I huffed but I softened immediately with a purr of contentment as he breathed on my ear. He felt so good. I tensed as I felt his hands dropped down to my waist. Then he squeezed.

I squeaked and he poked it with his finger. I couldn't help it. I _giggled_. Damn. I hate it that I'm ticklish. He squeezed more and I slapped him lightly on the butt.

"You were supposed to be sleeping, pervert." I gently rubbed the place I slapped, just in case I hurt him.

He then chuckled and drew me closer, ceasing his tickling. I placed my thigh in between his to get more comfortable. I sighed with contentment. I love Sundays.

He moved one of his hands to my hair and rubbed my head gently. I whimpered softly, letting him know it felt good.

"Misaki." He whispered to my ear. I shivered.

I hummed to let him know I was listening.

"I love you."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I grinned cheekily and kissed his nose, surprising him.

"Good night, Usagi-san."

He sighed and settled down. Nuzzling my face against his chest, I inhaled his scent: cigarettes, soap, cologne…and something uniquely Usagi-san. Delicious.

"Usagi-san…" I whispered against his neck.

He grunted but did not open his eyes. Baka Usagi was probably hurt because I didn't say it back. But I learned that you don't always have to say it. Certain actions would show it; a loving kiss on the lips before breakfast, driving me to school so I won't be late, making effort to make dinner because he thought I would be tired, letting me sleep longer on weekends because he knew I need it.

Honestly. Could I possibly love him more?

I leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. His eyes flew open, startled. I smiled as I tangled our hands together.

"I love you, too."

He smirked and kissed my hand. "I know."

I couldn't help but smile with that arrogant remark. Well, it's true isn't it? I sighed and closed my eyes. And together, me and my Usagi-san fell asleep on the couch, relishing each other's warmth. I really do love Sundays.

**END**

What do you guys think? any comments will be appreciated! :)


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